


Whoa, Easy Tiger

by Sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dry Humping, Episode Tag - Pilot, Feels, M/M, Pre-Episode, a little angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7075297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor/pseuds/Sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam & Dean make sparring fun...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whoa, Easy Tiger

Sam grunts as he’s thrown down to the floor yet again. He’d thought he had Dean this time, but his newly long 16yr old limbs - damn growth spurts - had been more of a hindrance than a help. 

It’s been this way since they started training. Dean almost always wins. When they played as kids, the older boy would let Sam win, but now? Now Dean is set on making Sam earn the victory. 

"Gotta be ready, Sammy. Monsters won’t let you tap out,“ he says, pulling the teen up to try again. They wrestle for hours, until they’re bodies are slippery with sweat. Dean has ditched his shirt, & Sam is this close to doing the same. Sweats hang loose on the deep V of Dean’s hipbones, the sight distracting Sam long enough for him to wind up on his back. Again. 

"Damn it,” he curses. 

"Whoa, easy, tiger,“ Dean says from where he straddles Sam’s hips. "Maybe we should take a break? You seem a might…” Dean rolls his hips against Sam’s, “distracted." 

"Screw you, Dean,” Sam retorts, biting back a groan. Dean just chuckles darkly. 

“Don’t think so, Sammy,” he says. “You gotta earn that, too.” Sam just groans as Dean begins to slowly rub the bulge under his sweats against Sam. 

"De, please,“ Sam begs as the elder boy leans in to lick at a line of sweat on Sam’s Adam’s apple. They’ve only been doing *this* the last year or so. There’s a zing of heat & pleasure & desire that courses through him every time Dean touches him like this. 

"Love to hear you beg, little brother,” Dean says, bringing his knees in one at a time & kicking Sam’s legs wide so that Dean can settle into the cradle of his angular, teenage hips. 

"Fuck,“ Sam pants, the pressure so much better now. They’re humping like dogs, & he desperately needs a hand on his cock, but Dean grabs at him when he tries, holding his arms tight above his head. 

"Gotta earn it, baby boy,” is all he says & continues rocking, both of them moaning like they’re being paid for it until they cum, loads of hot salty fluid soaking their underwear & the loose cotton weave of their sweats. 

"Now I gotta change clothes, jerk,“ Sam breathes out. Dean just bites at his chest through the extra-large shirt of Dean’s that he’s wearing, leaving a pretty bruise for Sam to discover later & press at for days to keep it dark & sore.

"Win next time,” he says, “and you get to decide how you cum, bitch.” 

Sam never quite gets the hang of beating his brother, & when he leaves for Stanford, he puts all of it behind him. Until one night when he goes to put down an intruder & finds himself flat on his back, his older brother smiling down at him as he says, “whoa, easy, tiger.”

END


End file.
